On the first floor of a wooden apartment, he was painting pictures in a daze; he wanted to draw about himself, about the world that surrounds him
He liked pictures since he was little, the reason being that everyone praised him; but the only person who praises him now, is his girlfriend who lives with him
But he was happy with that; they passed by each other everyday, but she always left her notes in those lovely cherry-blossom patterned papers
When he realized, the night has already ended, the sun has already set, the winter already passed; that day, a painting of his was sold for the first time

The situation was already changing; the next month, all his paintings were sold
The thing that changed, was always the scenery
Everyone commended his paintings, she happily said to him
"What I believed in, was right."

From the people who bought his paintings, he received letters of gratitude sometimes; he didn't know what he did to be thanked for, but it obviously didn't feel bad either
He was happy for the treasures that slowly accumulated in the small room, hoping that this would continue forever
He came to love pictures even more, wanting to paint more beautiful pictures; he wanted to draw about himself, about the deeper truth
He came up with a masterpiece, she smiled saying its beautiful; it was a picture about people's wretched nature that everyone shifted their gaze away from

Everyone scowled at his paintings, and like the ebbing tide, people left his side
The thing that changed, was always the scenery
People scoffed at him calling him incompetent, and the two with their increasing fights broke up
Maybe what I believed in, was wrong

On the first floor of a wooden apartment, he is still painting pictures; he wanted to draw about himself, about me* who's empty after all
He liked pictures since he was little, but now he doesn't know the reason; there's no one to praise him now
The paintings increasing in number don't have names anymore

The day he realized the time, and wondered how many months and days have passed, a painting of his was sold after quite a while
The thing that changed, was always the scenery
A letter came from the painting's buyer, a single phrase on a cherry-blossom patterned paper
"What I believed in, was right."